


But I Know It's Nobody's Fault

by GravityWhatGravity



Series: Don't Know the Reason [1]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: F/M, Joseph and Mary backstory, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GravityWhatGravity/pseuds/GravityWhatGravity
Summary: Mary and Joseph met on New Year's Eve in 1999.





	But I Know It's Nobody's Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Their relationship is so interesting and I seeing people write their issues as being entirely one person's fault. So instead of moaning I wrote my own. 
> 
> Fair warning, I started this at midnight. This story really wouldn't leave me alone.

 

**1999**

 

Joseph sat on a plastic garden chair on the roof of a near-stranger’s house. There were already fireworks, of course, casting pretty colours on his wine glass. His hands were shaking, he noted distantly. Joseph wondered if that was the withdrawal or the cold.

 

He'd been told - sorry, advised - not to go the party by the group. New Year’s Eve was hell for addicts, what with all the drinking. But then, alcohol was never Joseph’s problem. He had no false expectations about tonight. He was testing himself, plain and simple. That was another thing he was ‘advised’ against.

 

Joseph was never very good at following the rules.

 

“You gonna drink that, sailor?” A woman stood over him, one eyebrow raised expectantly. Evidently Joseph waited too long to reply, because she reached over and swallowed his wine in one gulp.

 

The woman pulled up a stool and sat next to him, leaning on the railings with her head to the sky. “Not a big drinker?”

 

“It's-” Joseph licked his lips self consciously ”-it's probably not a good idea.”

 

She gave him a look. It was funny, how his parents had known him for yen first 18 years of his life, but they couldn't see when he was slipping away. Yet this woman, this stranger, seemed to be peering into his soul. She had pretty eyes, all blown pupils behind long lashes.

 

She sighed. “Suit yourself. You come with a date?”

 

“Oh I- I didn't.”

 

“You like girls, sweetheart?” She was standing up now, leaving her glasses on the wall behind her.

 

“Well, not exclusively, but-” the woman dropped herself on in his lap, legs dangling off one side. “What are you-?”

 

“It's a new millennia. Gotta start with a bang.” She was leaning closer now and wow, she really was beautiful.

 

Even leaning closer, Joseph felt a twitch of uncertainty, “I don't even know your name.”

 

The woman smiled down at him. “It’s Mary. Happy new year, Sailor.”

 

***

**2001**

 

Mary filled the holes in Joseph's life perfectly. Their cracked edges clicked together seamlessly, and where they didn't Mary smoothed them down. Joseph told her about his past, how his parents were too busy arguing to notice their son falling apart, and Mary told him about reaching her breaking point with her family’s perfect expectations. 24 was too old to really be runaways, but the title fit all the same. It was Joseph and Mary against the world.

 

(“I don't usually do this you know,” Mary had said when they had a _very_ late breakfast together on New Year's Day.

 

“Sleep with men you've just met?” Joseph asked.

 

“Stay with them,” she replied.)

 

He got a job in a café they both hated and she got a job behind a bar. Some days Mary’d come back to their tiny apartment with stories from her patrons. Each one was longer than the last, with subplots and details that knew no end.

 

Joseph knew most of it was exaggerated or entirely fabricated, but he couldn't help but be wrapped in the sound of her voice and the twinkle in her eye.

 

One day in July she came home and told him a story about a sea captain. How he'd been kicked out by his wife and sailed alone for weeks and weeks, bathing in the sunshine. She went on for hours, carefully selecting the words to describe the exact noise the waves made as the sloshed around the ocean.

 

“That doesn't sound like a bad life,” he’d said.

 

Mary raised an eyebrow, “You're that eager to get rid of me?”

 

Joseph laughed. “No, no, no. It just reminds me of a song.”

 

She’d hummed the tune to him, and Joseph tried his hardest to suppress the butterflies in his stomach repeating ‘ _wife, wife, wife_ ’ on an endless loop.

 

**2003**

 

Marriage was never part of their plan, but then, neither was any of Maple Bay. He'd carried her over the threshold of their new home, still wearing the jeans and blazer he'd being wearing when they got married (married!) at the courthouse earlier that day. They sat on the floor, surrounded by boxes. Mary’s long legs stretched across his lap.

 

“I guess this is it. _Domesticity_ ,” she sighed. She was grinning as she said it, though.

 

“Well, Mrs Chistiansen, are you excited?”

 

“For our wedding night?”

 

He laughed. Leaned forward to kiss her. “For the rest of our lives.”

 

The house was pretty trashed from its last owner, but it was situated in a nice little cul-de-sac. The garden was big enough for parties. Maybe they could make friends, throw a party to celebrate them moving in.

 

Joseph never expected to settle down. He hadn't in stayed in the same place long enough until he'd net Mary. But kissing in the living room of a new home, in a nice neighbourhood, with his gorgeous wife in his arms...

 

Well, domestic life was looking pretty damn appealing.

 

**2005**

 

Religion was a sort of journey for Joseph. He'd come to the local church for the funeral of their neighbour, Anne. She was a sweet lady, the kind that helped them figure out the intricacies of neighbourhood politics and recounted tales of her days of flirting to Mary. Mary and Anne swapped stories every other night, enthralled in each others words.

 

(“Have you ever put pen to paper with these stories?” Anne asked.

 

Mary looked more shocked than Joseph could ever remember seeing her. “No I… I can't say I have.”

 

“You should.”)

 

Her funeral was a sombre occasion, as funerals are. But Anne had made many friends in the community. Or, more accurately, she had enough friendly rivalries to fill a church hall.

 

Her son had spoken, tears in his eyes, about how he'd missed the end of her life, but he remembered her in his childhood fondly. Her granddaughter spoke, too. She was only 12, but she clung onto the podium and forced her way through her lines with steely determination.

 

Joseph watched the girl finish her speech and run to her parents. They held each other, as a family in grief, the same way that he and Mary clutched each others arms now.

 

Joseph had never considered religion. He'd seen guys like him fall straight out of addiction and into religion before, but it never appealed to him. Much better to forge his own path, he'd thought, than follow an imaginary god, but there was a strange impossibility about the situation. Anne couldn't possibly be gone. Dead, he couldn't dispute. But gone? Really gone from this world and their lives? Something in Joseph rebelled against it. No. Anne couldn't be gone. Such a sweet and caring soul couldn't have just...disappeared. It didn't make sense.

 

He'd said the same to the minister. The minister looked at him with a strange patience. Like he'd heard the story a thousand times before, but would listen anyway.

 

“Son, maybe you should come to a service,” he'd scribbled some times on a scrap of paper and handed it to Joseph,”I think we could help you.”

 

**2007**

 

Mary sobbed and sobbed and sobbed when she found out she was pregnant. She'd missed 2 periods, gained some weight and still kept denying it.

 

Even when her eyes lingered on the pregnancy tests at the store.

 

Even when Neil saw her a the park and asked why she didn't come to the bar anymore.

 

Even when she’d lay awake at night, one hand clenched at her side and the other cupping her stomach.

 

She still had tiny indents on her palm from her fingernails. Joseph had asked what was wrong; kissed the scratches when she didn't answer then kissed her lips, soft and sweet before he left for college.

 

(“Theology? Not what I expected from you, Sailor.”

 

“I know I just… Forget it. We can't afford it now, anyway,” Joseph said, eyes down turned.

 

The hopelessness in his eyes was like a stab in the gut. “Hey,” Mary tilted his head to face hers, “We can do it. I'll pick up some shifts at the bar. It'll be fine.”

 

Joseph smiled, and Mary tried to pretend that was enough to sooth the burn that came with knowing she’d have to put her writing on hold, _again_.)

 

He'd come home to find her on her knees in the bathroom, pregnancy test on the floor, the two blue ‘positive’ lines haunting her.

 

“I can't do this. I- Joe I can't do this,” she'd gasped, eyes huge and wild. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she'd moved on from crying to hyperventilation.

 

Joseph held her head between her palms,”Of course you can, Mary. You're going to be a great-”

 

Mary coughed out something resembling a laugh, “Me? I'm barely a person, Joe, now I've got one growing inside of me! I can't- _we_ can't do this. You can't really think we can do this.”

 

Mary had a way with people, even in tears. It was sad that the same eyes that convinced him to kiss her, that first night they met, were bloodshot and leaking, breaking his heart 7 years later.

 

“Mary,” he whispered, “Mary I need you to breath with me, okay? Can you do that for me, darling? In and out. That's it, c’mon sweetheart.”

 

Her breathing evened out, slowly, and all the fight seemed to leave her. She was slumped against Joseph’s chest like a puppet with all its strings cut. All because of a baby. All because of _their_ baby.

 

“We don't-” Joseph blinked away the tears in his eyes -”we don't have to have it.”

 

Mary’s head shot up. There was shock in her expression, and something else, some indecipherable look that put Joseph on edge. “You mean it?”

 

Joseph swallowed. “Yes.”

 

“You’d do that. For me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

A beat. Mary reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks before doing the same to him. She sat back, legs crossed, leaning on the bath behind her.

 

“We’re going the be awful at this. Neither of us had very good examples.” she said. Her eyes were tracking his expression, looking for any response. Good. Mary was good at this.

 

“Plenty of people raise kids without any role models.”

 

“Sometimes I think that might have been better. No habits are easier to break than bad habits, you know?” Her voice was soft now, echoing around the room.

 

“Then we’ll make good habits. There's lots of advice for parents. Books, classes, online stuff. We could be the best prepared parents out there.’

 

Mary bit her lip, considering.

 

“If you don't want this, that's fine. We can try again later. If you don't ever want this then… that's fine, too,” Joseph smiled, “I've got you and you've got me. That's all I need.”

 

Mary cracked a smile. Her whole face seemed to lift up. Even with the creases in the corner of her eyes she looked years younger when she smiled. “Well, now we've got this little one, too.”

 

(It wasn't the last time they discussed their inability as parents, but it was the last time abortion was brought up. A few days after Chris was born Joseph saw Mary leaning over the crib where he slept, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.

 

“As if I could get of got rid of you,” she said, and Joseph left to run her a bath with an answering smile.)

 

**2009**

 

Christie and Christian came late in February. Mary thought it was a testament to her growth as a parent that she didn't immediately panic when she heard it was twins. But then, with a two year old boy and _TWO_ newborns, she was starting to regret not panicking more.

 

“We’re going to die. Of exhaustion,” Mary said.

 

“Yup.”

 

Mary looked up from her place in his lap. She was stretched out on the sofa, legs dangling off the arm with her head on his lap. “Really? Those are your words of encouragement for your loving wife?”

 

Joseph looked down at her. Mary looked at him. Christie started crying, which set off Christian, which set of Chris. Mary sighed, and moved to stand up.

 

“No,” Joseph said, standing up and pushing her back down, “I've got it.”

 

“My hero,” Mary said, batting her eyes flirtatiously.

 

Joseph laughed, grabbing a bottle of milk from the microwave and heading to the twins’ bedroom.

 

(Joseph caught Mary passed out on her computer, face smashed on the keyboard. There was at word document on screen. From the looks of it, Mary was writing the climax of her story when it devolved into a jumble of random letters ending in a string of ‘f”s.

 

The next time Christie cried for food he was up before Mary had opened her eyes. “Hey, the doctor suggested we use formula for the twins anyway.” He waved as bottle of milk in front of his face. “You've got a book to write.”)

 

**2012**

 

“Well maybe I don't want to our children to grow be pushed down and repressed!”

 

“He was shouting in the store, Mary! Telling him off isn't child abuse, it's parenting!”

 

Mary’s hand clenched around her wineglass. “Oh? So now I can't parent?”

 

“No, Mary, I didn't mean that. Don't twist my words just because you know I'm-”

 

“Right?” Mary snorted. “You don't know what you're talking about. You-”

 

“Mom? Dad?” Chris stood at the door in his pyjamas, holding his teddy bear in one hand.

 

Mary and Joseph rushed to explain.

 

“Hey, sweetie, we were just-”

 

“-Nothing to worry about, really, you-”

 

“Why don't we get you a glass of water and a cookie, okay? Is that-”

 

“-Pizza tomorrow. Would you like that or-?”

 

Chris blinked up at them. “Water would be nice.”

 

Mary set her glass down and grabbed a plastic cup for Chris.

 

(Between Joseph’s first year as a youth minister and Mary’s second book being published it took them a couple of nights before they had the time and privacy to talk.

 

“They're children, Joseph. They don't have to be perfect.”

 

“I know. I just don't want them to grow up hating me.”)

 

**2013**

 

Church moms and gossip went hand in hand. When they first moved to Maple Bay Mary had thought it looked sweet. Groups of Moms on each others sides, supporting each other… but that was when Marilyn had was in charge.

 

Marilyn died a couple of years after her mother-in-law, spending her last years as Mary’s neighbour in the house she’d inherited. They were never overly close, but Mary couldn't help but be jealous of the life she'd built. Marilyn Small was whipsmart, and the only people that kept up were her husband and daughter. Mary remembered stifling laughter at the sly barbs Marilyn threw at the other moms.

 

Now Mary was the new girl that didn't quite fit in. Her cross necklace hung heavy around her neck and she never could quite keep up with Joseph’s bright colour scheme. She'd heard them talking about how she wasn't quite right.

 

The name thing was cute, but didn't Joseph deserve better than an alcoholic for a wife? And did you see their children? Awful, wild things. Poor Joseph must be running himself ragged chasing after their kids while she did… what was is she did? Helen’s said she spent half her time at the bar flirting with other men!

 

Mary wanted to scream.

 

“Marilyn hated it, too,” Robert said, sliding across from her in a booth at Jim and Kim’s.

 

“Do I know you?” Mary said, just to see what he'd do.

 

Robert laughed. “It's that church bullshit, right?” He took a sip of his whiskey. “I don't know much about religion, but I'm pretty sure all this politics shit wasn't in the Bible.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll drink to that,” Mary said, snorting despite herself. She looked down and found her glass empty. “Buy a gal a drink?”

 

(Robert’s daughter, Val, had left. Mary couldn't tell if he was in the bar because she left or if she left because of the bar but, either way, it gave her a good drinking buddy.

 

Robert met Joseph the following month. Robert was in their kitchen, reeling over Val’s latest message - _don't contact me again_ \- when Joseph walked in.

 

Robert’s eyes ran over Joseph, head to toes and back up again. Joseph looked between them, eyes wide and observing. His gaze lingered on Roberts uncovered arms, Mary’s pursed lips.

 

 _Oh._ )

 

**2015**

 

“I fucked your husband,” Robert said.

 

“I’m pregnant,” Mary replied.

 

Robert closed his eyes.

 

“What? You thought he was gonna leave me? His perfect little wife? For one night with you?” Mary laughed, passing him her whiskey.

 

She wasn't sure why she'd bought it. She'd read enough about foetal brain damage when she was pregnant with Chris to know not to drink it. She was sure, even now, that if she asked for an abortion Joseph would be supportive. Even when she flirted with other men and he was edging towards Robert, he'd never stopped trying to help her.

 

Maybe she bought the drink out of habit.

 

(She wondered if Joseph was stuck in habits, too.)

 

Robert seemed to be choking out his words. “I didn't think… at the same time…”

 

Mary knew Robert wouldn't apologise. It wasn't his style at the best of times. He'd feel guilty, definitely. He was probably waiting for Mary to shout at him, martyr him.

 

Fat chance of that. Mary wasn't losing her best friend just because of he had some _thing_ with her husband.

 

“Better start cleaning your house, Small. This bar’s bad for my health and you sure as hell aren't coming to my place.” Robert grunted in response.

 

**2017**

 

The new guy was on the sex yacht with Joseph. Robert trawled into her house in the afternoon, lead by Chris.

 

“I tried,” he said, hands shaking by his side, “I tried to stop them.”

 

Mary took a sip of her wine. “Kids, go play upstairs.”

  
“Yes, mom,” they chorused, running off while Robert collapsed on her sofa.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment below or message me on tumblr as gravitywhatgravity.
> 
> Also! This isn't beta read. Let me know if you have any (constructive) criticism!
> 
> Edit: This isn't strictly necessary, but just to confirm a few things here:
> 
> \- Anne is Robert's grandmother. This is a headcanon, but his daughter (Val) and wife (Marilyn) are canon.
> 
> \- Joseph's withdrawal was due to a drug addiction.
> 
> \- Joseph's parents argued a LOT which contributes to him running away from home and provides an explantain for why he's better at 'pretending to be happy'
> 
> \- Mary was very stifled by her parents, and being a youth minister's wife is kind of her worst nightmare, because she's put her children in a position in which they're under a microscope the way she was.
> 
> But I'm just the writer. I absolutely welcome your own interpretation of the text!


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